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Aa
__NOEDITSECTION__ Belongs to forest now Aa is a short, simple word that most don't know exist. But it's there. Just like this. I Numbers. Numbers, Mathematics, Physics. All follow set rules. They're understandable. Language is a middle ground. Flexible, changing. But the rules are still there. But dragons? Impossible to understand. Trying, yes I try. But, in 97.6547% of conversations, I say something awkward. What makes awkward? I don't know. Emotions and dragons don't make sense. Which was fine, considering I was allowed to stay in the house all day. It's not true anymore. Mother, who always does 'the best for me', decided I should go to school. Because I need to improve my skills, even though they are perfectly fine the way they are, thank you. But still. I'm stuck in an unfamiliar place. With other dragons. Ah, this is going to be great. Why was I'' chosen for better inter-tribe relations. I'm a nobody, and a loner. But I'm going to this Jade Mountain Academy anyway. "And, who are you?" ... I ''hate my name. "...Bigtail." II She floated silently though the halls. Dragons smiled and waved as she went pass, and she found no need to respond. Her destination was ahead, and she ignored all unrelated to it. Silence suffused the room she entered. It was warm, uncomfortably so, but what she had come to do would increase that feeling. She closed her eyes for a moment, before looking down. There it was, exactly as the mourning queen described. The robin blue eggshell, cradling the limp dragonet. She gingerly picked the dead princess up, a life disposed of so young. She always cleaned up after the assassin, whoever it may be. She hated it, seeing these countless lives being lost. Another two bodies where laying still, but she couldn't look at them quite yet. Along the wall were four eggs. Male, all of them. They didn't matter, and they always survived. She turned and left the room, carefully holding the dead dragonet. Princess Moray grieved, even as her face remained still. III "Hey." The SandWing looked up. "Hm?" "Well," she responded, "I saw a SandWing outside." "You see a lot of SandWings. We're in the Sand Kingdom." he said, flatly. "Well, none as weird as that one." She grinned, watching him, "Yep. She'd like a SandWing like that. The little thing's gold all over, and she's missing a barb. I'd peg her as some sort of hybrid, but she's with one of your friends." "The Outclaws?" "That's what their called? Hm, anyway, she's pretty new here, by the looks of it. What to go to the oasis, check things out?" The SandWing was already at the door. "Hey dude, wait a sec." "What?" he asked, irritated. "I know how important family is for you, but you know Burn, she might just take the prize and kill you." "I'll be careful." "No you won't." she replied, "Good luck, Addax. Shall I get your other friends?" "Yes." IV I didn't think drawing would work, either. Not at first. Therapists told me to "release my trauma through artistic creations." Those were their exact words. At first, I laughed at the stupidity with everyone else. At first. Who would have known I'd end up here in the dark of night, painting and slashing ink over the canvas, depicting the death of dozens of NightWings whos screams haunted my dreams. Red and orange ink spilled across black impasto, lava eating up black rock like it was nothing. Despite the natural chill of the mountain, sweat rolled down my spine. The painting illustrated a NightWing, screaming, dying amidst flames and flowing magma. The still-wet paint splattered across the ground of the cave as I tore it to shreds, NightWing claws working through the treated canvas like it was paper. The drops of bloodred and obsidian black joined other, more vibrant paint on the ground. I dragged my hands along my face and rubbed my eyes, the paint that stained my claws smearing across dark scales. "I wish I was born in the rainforest like Moonwatcher was." The name spits out of my mouth like an insult. My bitter, pathetic wish joins the others in my pit of despair. "But no." My talon scratches a name into the disgusting mess of canvas and paint on the ground. Signing my- to quote my therapist- "artistic creation." When the sun comes up, I can see it clearly now. My scrawled handwriting carving a name into the layers of paint. My name. Mightyclaws. V weevil VI changbai VII aphid "what happened?" his silkwing caretaker looks terrified of him after the hivemind thing and aphid can't figure out why VIII princess sunset "i hate this job, i hate the sea kingdom." IX crane a little blurb during the battle she died Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Genre (Short Story) Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon) Category:Content (ForestFire28)